Past and Future all in a Dream
by htbookreader1
Summary: this is an entry for ChazziiBabes competion about the past of twilight characters...this particular one is human Edward's Pov...about the day the influnza came to Chicago Illinos on that fateful day in 1918...please read review and enjoy


Hey all...so this is a little bit different than what i've done for the past couple of months...this is for ChazziiBabes competition about the past of Twilight characters...this is a one-shot about Edward before he comes a vampire and a day in his life...leading up to when he becomes bitten by Carlisle...if you are interested or want to enter go to **(dot)net**/u/1975678/ the information is right there and you can find it pretty easily...hope you enjoy and like this

**Past and Future all in Dream**

She is there, right there, in front of my eyes. I see her now, she is so beautiful. She has black eyes which tell tales of endless days. Her lips are red, like blood, like fire, like heat all combined together. And her skin…how to describe that? As pale as a Roman goddess yet beautiful like the pale light of the morning. God if only I could have a minute to touch her, just the chance to brush my lips to hers. For only a moment…

"Edward!"

I blink. I sit up in bed and rub my eyes which are filled with sleep and pain. The pain of knowing it was all just a dream. There is no such creature which stands before me in my real life. All that exists is memories. And what are memories anyway?

"Edward!"

My mother calls me again, but I ignore her, as any new seventeen-year-old would do. I arise from my comfortable bed with a long sigh. And my feet carry my body to the window. The beauty of the new day relaxes my wounded soul.

"I'm not going to call you again!" my mother yells.

I smile as I become more alive with each breath. I laugh at the simplicity of the every-day and decide to answer my mother.

"Sorry mother," I say in a clear voice, "I must have overslept!"

I hear my mother chuckle though she tries to hide it as she says, "Come down here now and help with the breakfast!"

I nod though she doesn't see me and quickly dress myself for work. As soon as I dress I half run and half tumble down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Immediately I am confronted with the beautiful Elizabeth Masen who is currently stirring a concoction in a large bowl with only the support of a wooden spoon. I go up to her and kiss her lightly on the cheek.

She shakes her head. "That won't make up for your tardiness sleepyhead. What kept you so sound all night?"

Though I know the cause I shrug. "I am tired mother. I do not get enough sleep as it is."

My mother nods. "You do stay very late at the factory with Edward."

My eyes widen as I realize that someone very important is missing from this kitchen. I gulp.

"Where is father?"

Mother gives me a mischievous smile. "You have no idea what time it is, do you?"

"He already went to the factory?" I guess.

She nods.

I groan. I am extremely late then, more than I thought. The foreman is not kind to the latecomers.

"Do you want to help me make this?" she asks knowing full well what I shall answer.

I bit my lip. "Uh."

"Just go," she says.

I thank her and begin to head for the door.

"Make sure you take your lunch!" she yells.

Upon my mother's request I grab my lunch and close the door behind me. I step out into the bustling city of Chicago Illinois. There are so many people who live here and move about their day like ants on a farm. And I love it. You can smell the progress and hear the beating hearts of the thousand hopefuls. And, if you close your eyes tightly, you can believe that you are part of every other life that walks your path.

But today, I am like the wind moving through crowds, in the attempt to get to the hat factory. And I find myself lost in thoughts of the mysterious girl in my dreams. I am consumed with the unexplainable desire for her, for more of her. And I cannot comprehend the intensity I feel, nor do I have the time, for soon I am at the factory.

I walk in and try, discreetly, to step into my usual place before the foreman, Mr. Burgens, notices anything. I work beside my father and, he silently nods towards me to acknowledge that I have finally dragged myself from bed. To acknowledge that I am here.

My eyes shift down as my ears pick up the familiar sound of Mr. Burgens' boots as the echo the floor. I pray to whoever is listening that he does not notice me, please, please…

"Mr. Masen," says Mr. Burgens slowly.

My father, the willing victim of Mr. Burgens sure torture looks up. "Yes?"

"I am pleased that your son has finally decided to show up to work today," he says with a heavy sigh.

My father does not reply, though I would like to. I would like to do more than keep my head down all in the hopes for a few pennies. I would like to fly from this table and tackle that man to the ground. He is larger than I am but my anger and rage are stronger. Suddenly I feel fingertips forcefully push my chin upwards and my eyes meet those of Mr. Burgens.

"Good morning," he says with false cheerfulness.

I nod.

"Have you nothing to say to me boy?" His voice has lost its cool and he is angry.

I hate it when he calls me boy. I am seventeen, soon I shall be eighteen, then nineteen…I will be a full adult in good time and I am no youth now! I have nothing to say to a man who calls me a child and who treats his fellow man like an animal.

"You will answer me!" he yells and slaps my face.

I wince at the pain. I wince at the blood on my cheek due to the ring on Mr. Burgens' pinky finger.

"He has just woken up," my father pleads. "Let him work Mr. Burgens."

"Do not tell me what to do with my employees Mr. Masen!" Mr. Burgens grabs my father by his collar and shoves him backwards. My father almost loses his balance but he maintains his calm demeanor.

I begin to tremble. I begin to shake with unfettered rage. Mr. Burgens begins to move onto another section of the factory. My father resumes work, Mr. Burgens resumes his pace. My father is working…Mr. Burgens is doing nothing….

My mind races with the injustice of the world, with the beautiful girl of my dreams, with the blood on my cheek, with my father's kind eyes, with Mr. Burgens…

I stop working suddenly. My hands cease the insipid practice they have done unwillingly for so long. Father puts a hand on my shoulder as if he knows what is coming, as if he knows the volcano that is his only child. I look at him. I see my father's brown eyes which long for me to return to the factory line. I shake my head.

"I have to do this father," I explain. "For you."

"Edward," he whispers. "Don't—"

I shake my head once more. "Father, there is so much evil, I cannot, I will not…"

I move away from my father and walk quietly behind Mr. Burgens. The other employees at the factory stare at me as I stalk my prey. All I can do is look at him and think of all the rage I feel inside. Soon Mr. Burgens realizes that there is something all of his workers are staring at.

"What are you people goggling at!?" he yells.

He whirls around and finds me behind him. He should fear me. He should cower before my rage and apologize for what he has done. I cross my arms and stare at him with vengeance and thick venom. But he cracks a smile and laughs.

"You are angry with me," he says.

"Yes," I say for lack of better, far angrier, words.

"I assume you want an apology for," he gestures to my bleeding blood stained cheek, "that."

I shake my head. "I want an0 apology for my father."

Another chuckle from the foreman. "I don't apologize to my employees, they are lucky enough to work for me and earn a decent wage." He begins to walk away again! And I must get his attention, if nothing else…Somewhere from the depths of my being I know exactly what send him into a rage. It as if I know what he is thinking and fearing this very minute. He does not fear the loss of a lazy employee. He fears the threat of a strike. It as is if I can hear his very thoughts tell me of his fear…

"It is far from decent!" I yell.

Mr. Burgens turns around fiercely. "Are you talking back to me?"

"You bet I am," I hiss. I curl my fingers into fists.

"Do you want to fight me?" he asks walking closer to me, each step resounds around the entire factory.

Meanwhile there are scattered whispers and the sound of machines stopping and slowing down. Apparently I have finally found a way to stop all the machines from their whining and hissing. As Mr. Burgens walks closer I do not reply to his open-ended question.

"The penalty for hurting the foreman," said Mr. Burgens whacking me across the face, "is unemployment. Do you know what that word means boy?" He punches my stomach and I crumble to the floor. The crowd winces.

I nod wordlessly.

He kicks at my ribs. "Unemployment is the opposite of employment. It is what befalls idiots like you who think that they are more important than the men at the top. You think you will be somebody special one day, you think that you will do something noble and this," he extends his hands to the factory as if it his is kingdom, "is nothing more than an impediment."

He gives me another kick. "I have news for you boy, this is it. For you, for your father, for everyone!" He yells this last bit so that the entire factory echoes with his command.

I close my eyes and am confronted by the girl again. She is looking at me with sad eyes of loneliness. For she is, in fact, all alone. She stands surrounded by trees, more trees than I have ever seen in my life. For trees of this magnitude and intensity do not grow in the city of Chicago. She hugs herself and looks at me.

_Edward._

_Yes? _I reply in this state between the conscious and the unconscious.

_Do you love me?_

_Yes I do._ I do not even need to think about this answer, I just say it, and mean every syllable of its intensity.

_You need to get up Edward._

_But lying here is so peaceful, _I moan to the beauty.

_If you love me, you will open your eyes._

So I do, I open my eyes and I see my employer's eyes staring at me. They are cold, like death, yet fiery as if hell itself was staring at me, making me one of the damned. And in this man, this devil's, eyes I see all the masters and the slaves that have come and will ever come into existence. I see the slaves of a thousand years ago in Egypt, I see the slaves of tomorrow in the factories with their toil and their blood as the mortar for the bricks.

And it is for these reasons that I jump up and tackle the villain. It is for the girl I cannot hold, for the father I love, for the mother at home, for the innocence I leave behind in this industrial city. For the villain's part, he is so surprised that he does not fight back but falls on his back. I begin to pound at the monster with all my fury. And as I try to destroy the villain whose eyes burn into mine, I realize that he has my eyes.

He and I have the same eyes…

Suddenly I stop and he sits up and punches my face.

"You're fired," he shrieks and kicks me.

I break into a run and flee the factory. I do not stop until I can run no further and there is no more breath in me left to run. I lean against a brick wall and fall to my knees. Tears paint my eyes and tumble down my cheeks. I breathlessly try to wipe them away.

"What happened back there?" asks a familiar voice.

I brush another tear from my eye and see my father looking down at me. His face is covered with soot and sadness. His eyes are watery with tears yet unshed.

"I'm sorry father," I say though I know an apology is not enough.

Edward Masen sits beside me and I lean against his sympathetic shoulder.

"Why did you do it?" he asks me.

I shrug. "He hurt you, he hurt me…he deserves it and more…" I trail off.

Father chuckles and kisses my forehead. "Sometimes you need to accept the pain and suffering in the thought of better things to come."

"I do not know if I will ever accept pain as excruciating as that of Mr. Burgens'," I say with a bitter taste in my mouth.

My father smiles. "I hope you will never need to face worse than Mr. Burgens beatings."

We are silent for a time until my father speaks up. "So, Edward, why were you so late?"

I pick my head up from his comfortable shoulder and look him in his wise eyes. They only want truth from my mouth, they only deserve truth from my mouth.

"It was a dream," I say bashfully. "I dream I wish had not ended."

My father chuckles. "A girl?"

I shake my head. "Not just a girl…she was more than a girl, father." I smile at the memory of this beautiful creature from my dreams.

"Someone I know?" He asks with a curious brow raised.

"No," I say sadly, "I have never seen her before in my life. I doubt very much that I will ever truly look upon a face as lovely as hers. Not even if I live a hundred years."

My father shakes his head. "I believe you will find her son."

I look at him with wide eyes. "Really?"

Father nods as if his word is truth. "Absolutely, Edward. Before I met your mother, I thought I would never find a woman as amazing as she. But I did, and—pardon the cliché—it was love at first sight. My eyes met hers and there was…well…a rush of energy such that I never had nor ever will have again with such intensity." His entire face lights up upon the blessed memory, and I too feel enthralled with new life just listening to his tale.

"You will find love Edward, you have a good soul and an even more loyal heart, you will find love," my wise father says resolutely.

Before I have the chance to thank him Mr. Nethers, a fellow employee comes running up to us out of breath. As he regains his breath we stand up and try to support his waning strength.

"Are you alright?" my father asks his good friend.

Mr. Nethers nods, takes off his hat and blows it in front of his face to let the cool artificial wind calm his nerves.

"Spit it out," my father implores.

"Nathan has come down with the influenza!" He yells.

My heart skips a beat and I am sure my father's does as well. "Where is he?" I yell.

"The hospital!" Mr. Nethers says and urges us to follow him to the hospital

We all run as if our feet could carry us forever. The reason for our haste is that we have read in the papers every day of new cases spreading throughout the states like wildfire. We never expected that such a disease could invade our Chicago. But now…now no one is safe.

At the hospital we find Nathan Rant lying sick and alone in the hospital bed. But he is not alone, there are many of our neighbors who have been claimed by the influenza. My father, myself, and Mr. Nethers stand over our dear friend and fellow employee. He looks up at us with a weak smile. He closes his eyes.

"Hello," he says.

I look around and see that there are doctors all about but no one is tending to this dear sweet man. "We need a doctor!" I yell.

Suddenly a man, as pale as a ghost, and as beautiful as Zeus himself appears before us. His eyes are the color of butterscotch or hazel…I cannot tell. He smiles at us.

"I am Dr. Cullen," says the stranger with the stethoscope. He looks down at Nathan and touches his forehead soothingly.

"Are you sure you should be doing that?" I ask. "What if you get the illness?"

Dr. Cullen looks at me and smiles, then he nods sympathetically. "It is a risk I take for all my patients Mr. Masen."

My eyes widen. "How do you know my name?"

Dr. Cullen bits his lip. "You are the son Mrs. Elizabeth Masen and Mr. Edward Masen, are you not?"

I nod and now my father stands next to me. "I am this boy's father, is there something wrong?"

Dr. Cullen looks down and then up at our two faces. "Your mother came in a little while ago complaining of pain and a terrible headache, upon a further check she was diagnosed with the influenza."

My father is trembling and I hold him for fear that we will both fall over. This cannot be true, this cannot be possible. My mother, filled with this incurable disease? Forget trembling, I could double over with the pain I feel. And I know, if my mother has it, it will not be long until my father and I come down with the influenza. And this influenza knows very little survivors. It is in this moment of recognition when I understand the truth and finality of humanity.

Dr. Cullen looks at me with dazzling sad eyes. "Would you like to see your mother?"

We both nod and he leads us into another room where our mother is sitting up in bed. She is in the beginning stage of this disease and feels nothing yet of the violent pain we are sure will consume her, and eventually consume all of us.

My father and I sit beside her and attempt to sooth her with empty hopes and thoughtful fantasies. She accepts our kindness, laughs at our jokes, and kisses us as if she was saying goodbye. She looks at my father with eyes that shine with tears of understanding.

I excuse myself from them and look out the window. I lean my head against the windowpane and close my eyes.

So this is what love comes to? Death? Love at first sight means nothing knowing it will be followed by eventual and swift last sight. The eyes of youth turn to the eyes of the aged and the old. A reassuring touch turns to a trembling weak and bony grip and moments of missed tangibility. The young will become old.

Perhaps Mr. Burgens is right for all of his talk. I want to do more with life, but I will only find death. And even if I fight through this influenza, even if I survive I will eventually meet my maker with nothing to show for myself except an ended life.

I think of the girl in my dreams. She is still alone and sits in a meadow. She lays beside someone, a man I can tell…and yet not a man in so many ways. His smile is like that of a man's yet his face is so ghastly pale. I know not how to describe his clothes, for they are nothing like I have ever seen in my seventeen years. She looks at the creature beside her and smiles with contentment, and yet more than contentment…with love.

Suddenly I see what she sees with her eyes. I am confronted by this godlike image that even Hercules could not compete with, much less any mere mortal. Though he is no one I ever seen, I feel like have known him my entire life. I feel as though he has lived inside of me, the animal I cannot contain nor do not wish to contain. Yet his eyes…his eyes are so like mine and so full of peace that they surely cannot be mine.

Surely not.

Suddenly I feel sweat on my brow and I stumble. I open my eyes and touch my forehead. I am showing signs of this influenza as well. Soon I shall occupy a bed next to my mother and father. Soon I shall sleep in eternity with this girl. Perhaps that it what I see in my mind's eye. I see myself as an angel in the garden of Eden. And this girl has been sent by God to tell me of my fate, and to bring me home.

Suddenly I feel a cold hand on my shoulder. I jump and turn around to find Dr. Cullen standing before me.

"Do you feel unwell?" he asks.

I smile at him. "Yes, but I do not think I will soon."

He puts a hand to my forehead and I am jolted by his cold touch. He then puts a stethoscope to my chest and checks my beating heart.

"I think you should lie down."

I nod and see that my father is already in a bed beside my mother. He is holding onto her hand and I doubt that he will ever let it go. I smile at the two of them.

"They look so happy," I remark to the physician with the beautiful eyes.

He nods and guides me to an unoccupied bed. He bids me to lie down and try to get some rest. I welcome his suggestion and begin to do as he says when he coughs.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Nothing," he says though he looks at me curiously, "I have never seen a man who accepts his fate with such grace as you do. How do you do it?"

I sit up and look at the healthy yet pale doctor. "I don't know actually. But something tells me, something in my bones is telling me that I have something to look forward to. And I don't understand it…I can't describe it, but there is something after this for me."

Dr. Cullen chuckles and I see his white teeth. "Are you trying to be courageous?"

I shake my head. "I am not courageous doctor, I am telling you the truth."

I close my eyes and lay my head back. Soon I drift off into a murky sleep filled with horrible pictures of scattered faces. I feel a horrible pounding in my head and sweat clinging to my arms and body. My breath lessens and I do not know if the days have become weeks have become months. I know not the day from the night anymore.

I know that Dr. Cullen continues to come because his cold touch is the only change I feel from the intolerable heat consuming my body.

Today I dream of the girl again. She lies on top of me and touches me with her finger tips. She smiles at me and I stare into the endless abyss of her captivating eyes.

Suddenly I feel cold hands take hold of my neck and my eyes shoot open. Suddenly before I can think angry fiery claws, teeth rather they are teeth, dig into my neck and I scream. The teeth have gone and soon as they have come and I am left with a venom coursing through my system.

I thought that the influenza would end without this. I thought that life would end in death…but this is not death this is hell. Those teeth have sent me into hell and locked me up with the damned. I try to beat out the excruciating venom but I haven't the strength to stop its course. All I see in my mind's eye is this girl, this creature with black eyes and even blacker eyes.

_I will find you my angel._

_I will find you my love…_

And then I come to. I come to with new eyes, with new scent, with a new being. As if Death himself has tried to swallow me, found he could not stomach me, and then regurgitated me. My heart has stopped its beat though my eyes blink. And I find that breath is not necessary to stand and to walk and to exist.

I see Dr. Cullen and he sees me.

"Welcome to the new world Edward," he takes my hand in his and helps me stand up. Suddenly, without remorse I can hear this thoughts pounding into my skull. And they are thoughts of fear.

_Does he know? Does he know all that he has in this world is gone and I am his only friend?_

And thus begins an entire eternity I am forced to tread upon with new skin and a new identity. Yet I walk with heavy steps and an even heavier dulled heart.

_I will find you my angel._

_I will find you my love…_

**So thus ends my entry in the competition i hope you all like it...and all see new moon on Nov. 20th...**


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